


Turning Point

by castles_and_crowns



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: All of the Tropes, F/M, Hurt and comfort, Post-Star Wars: A New Dawn, Pre-Star Wars: Rebels, Sharing a Bed, Sort Of, cuddling for warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 15:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14499675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castles_and_crowns/pseuds/castles_and_crowns
Summary: Kanan takes care of Hera when she comes down with a bad illness.





	Turning Point

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, this world belongs to the lucky folks at Lucasfilm.

Kanan was in the galley stacking the newly cleaned dishes in one of the cupboards above the sink. He had learned from his six months on the _Ghost_ that Hera did not do dishes. In fact, she really didn’t do many chores at all, so they all pretty much fell to Kanan. Not that he minded. In addition to his prescribed duties, Kanan liked to help out around the ship. Hera hadn’t asked him to do the chores, but she definitely didn’t seem to mind the fact that he did them.

 

At least until today.

 

Hera entered the galley, saw Kanan stacking dishes, and said, “They don’t go in that cupboard, remember? They go in the one two places over.”

 

Kanan’s brow furrowed as he turned to face her. “Nothing was in this cupboard though, and it’s right above the sink. It’s just easier to put them there, don’t you think?”

 

“But that’s not where they go,” Hera said.

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yes, seriously.”

 

“But that’s ridiculous, Hera.”

 

“But it’s the rule,” she countered.

 

Immediately, Kanan thought something was off with Hera. Usually, she was pretty easy going. Okay, maybe not _easy going_ , but she wasn’t uptight about things that didn’t matter. Here she was now, though, standing in front of him with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

 

“Fine,” he muttered, removing the stack of dishes from the cupboard right above him and walking the few steps over to place them in the one that Hera had supposedly designated for them. Then he turned to her once more and, conjuring up a small dose of sarcasm, said, “Happy now?”

 

“Yes, though I don’t really care for your tone.”

 

“Hera…what’s going on with you? I was just trying to be helpful. I wasn’t trying to aggravate you by doing a couple of damn dishes.”

 

“Maybe not, but you could be a little more respectful when I ask you to do things the right way. It is, after all, _my_ ship,” she said, removing a hand from her hip and rubbing one of her temples with two fingers as if his insolence was now giving her a headache.

 

Kanan took a step toward her. “Yes, it is your ship. But I’m the one who does all the grunt work around here, and I think I’ve been around long enough to make a silly decision like where to stack the dishes.”

 

Hera’s eyes narrowed angrily, a look Kanan had never seen directed at him. “Well, if you don’t like the rules on _my ship_ , you can always just leave.”

 

“Are you threatening to kick me off your team?” he asked incredulously.

 

“I guess that’s up to you and whether or not you care to listen to me,” she said, before shrugging and walking out of the galley.

 

Kanan didn’t know whether to be more angry with Hera or concerned for her? She had never spoken to him this way, even on the one occaison where he’d accidently made a mistake that screwed up an operation. It was bewildering and, quite frankly, a little frightening.  

 

And what was this about Hera threatening to kick him off her team? Kanan knew he was an asset to Hera’s missions, and he knew she liked him having him around. He was a smart strategizer, a hard worker, and a good friend—all of which Hera was aware. Recently, she even told him that she was glad he had come aboard because his presence made her work a little easier.

 

_So, what in the worlds was her problem then?_

*** 

Their cantankerous exchange had happened early in the day cycle. Now, it was the night cycle, and Kanan hadn’t seen Hera since their argument. She had gone to her room and hadn’t come out all day. Kanan didn’t think it was particularly strange, as they were currently travelling through hyperspace and nothing in the ship needed tending to, but when she didn’t come out of her room for dinner, Kanan was a little concerned.

 

After finishing his supper, washing the dish, _and putting it in the cupboard that Hera had designated for it,_ Kanan went over to Hera’s cabin and knocked on her door.

 

No response.

 

He knocked again and called out her name. Again, there was no response.

 

Kanan rarely used the Force, but he felt like now was as good a time as ever to utilize his gift. He didn’t want to barge into Hera’s room, but if something was wrong, he needed to be able to get to her.

 

He took a deep breath and allowed himself to sink into the Force in order to search for Hera. He felt her Force signature. She was definitely on the other side of that door, but something was…off. It felt to Kanan as if she was somehow... _struggling._

 

Having sensed enough, Kanan withdrew from the Force and quickly typed in the code to Hera’s cabin. She didn’t know he knew it, but he’d watched her key it in enough times to have memorized it.

 

When the door opened, Kanan saw Hera curled up in her bunk, pale—almost grayish—green and practically catatonic. His heart leapt into his throat as he rushed towards her.

 

“Hera!” he exclaimed, kneeling beside her bunk and turning her head to face him. “Can you hear me?”

 

“Mhm,” she murmured affirmatively. Her eyes were half closed.

 

As he continued holding her head, Kanan realized that Hera was cold to the touch. In fact, she was _freezing._

 

A rush of fresh panic assaulted Kanan. Hera had _hyperspace sickness._

 

Usually, hyperspace sickness occurred in new spacers, not those who had spent their lives travelling from one end of the galaxy to the other. It was known to happen though, and it had apparently happened to Hera. Victims of the disease were known to become irrationably irritable ( _That would explain this morning,_ Kanan thought) and develop terrible migraines before their bodies began to freeze and then shut down. Fortunately, Kanan had witnessed others suffer through the sickness before, so he knew how to mitigate the symptoms—at least until he could get Hera to a med-center. And thankfully it wasn’t contagious, so Kanan didn’t have to fear contracting it from her.

 

The first thing he needed to do was get her warm.

 

“Hera, you might already realize this, but you’ve got hyperspace sickness. We gotta get you warmed up. I’m going to grab you some more blankets and then make you some soup, okay?” he said.

 

He wasn’t sure if she could understand all of what he was saying, but he didn’t want to frighten her, so he worked hard to keep his voice calm even though he was now terrified.

 

She let out a groan of acknowledgement, and Kanan hurried out of her room.

 

First, he raided the empty cabins and stripped the unused beds of their blankets. Kanan had observed that Hera only had one sheet and one blanket convering her, so he knew the five additional blankets he had scavenged would help. Next, he informed Chopper of the situation and asked him to keep an eye on the cockpit. He then turned the thermostat up ten degrees before heading to the galley to make Hera the soup he promised.

 

When he returned to her room, Kanan hastily wrapped Hera in all the blankets he had gathered and then sat her up so that he could feed her the soup.

 

Her eyes were still only half open and she could only open her mouth a tiny bit to take in the soup. Because he was so anxious to get some warmth and sustenance in her body, Kanan had to fight the urge to feed her the soup too fast. He was pleased to see her offer him the smallest smile about midway through him feeding her, but the smile was followed by her eyes shutting and her body slumping a little bit in the bed.

 

“Okay, Hera,” Kanan said, putting the soup to the side while still trying to appear calm. “I’ve turned up the heat on the ship and I’ve got Chopper manning the cockpit.” He wasn’t sure if she could hear him, but he knew for his own sanity that he had to talk to her as if she was cognizant. “There’s only one more thing I can think of to do, and you’re probably not going to like it.”

 

To his surprise, Hera’s eyes slowly opened and she made a questioning hum noise.

 

“I’m going to take some of our clothes off and get into bed with you. You know, body heat,” he said seriously.

 

She managed to raise a suspicious eyebrow at him, and he sighed. “I know, I know. I’ll only take my shirt off. Same goes for you.”

 

She offered him the smallest of nods before closing her eyes once more.

 

Kanan quickly removed his tunic and his undershirt and then worked on getting Hera out of the top half of her flight suit. He unzipped the suit down to her waist and removed her long sleeved undershirt, leaving only her breast band.

 

He then climbed into bed with her and situated himself so that she sat between his legs with her back to his chest. He covered them both with the blankets and then wrapped his arms around her middle and rested his chin on her shoulder.

 

Now that he had a hold of half of her body, he realized just how cold Hera had become. She was icy against his chest, while he was already sweaty from the heater and from the stress of the past few minutes. This was slightly encouraging to Kanan, as he hoped a lot of his body heat would transfer quickly to her.

           

“Your…” Hera was trying to speak, but her teeth were practically clenched shut.

 

“My what?” Kanan asked nervously.

 

“Heart.”

 

“My heart?” he repeated, before realizing what she meant. His heart was currently pounding—both from fretting over Hera and from their current proximity—and Hera must have been able to feel it against her back.

 

“Mhm,” she hummed. “Fast.”

 

“Oh,” Kanan said, suddenly feeling strangely vulnerable. “Yeah. I’m fine though. It’s you we’ve got to take care of. You’re not even trembling. We need to get your body working so that it’s at least trying to fight off the cold.”

 

“Yeah,” she muttered.

 

“You’re going to be okay. We’re not too far from a moon with a great med-center,” he said, trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince her. He removed his hands from her middle and began running them up and down her arms.

 

Minutes later, Hera let out a little shiver, quickly followed by nonstop, more aggressive shakes.

 

“Thank the Force,” Kanan said under his breath.

 

“I—can’t—stop—shaking,” she said. Kanan could hear her teeth chattering.

 

“Keep it up,” he encouraged. “That’s a good thing.”

 

He leaned his cheek against the curve of where her neck met her shoulder and felt that she was slightly warmer than she had been ten minutes ago. He told her as much.

 

“Have you ever had it?” she asked. Her voice was still weak, but it sounded significantly better than it did before.

 

“Thankfully, no. I had a job on a freighter, though, once when one of the crewmembers got the sickness. We didn’t have a medbay and we didn’t have soup, so we all had to take turns cuddling under a bunch of blankets with him. It was quite the sight. But that’s how I know what to do.”

 

“Well, I’m feeling a little warmer, so you must be doing something right.”

 

Kanan smiled. “Good.”

 

“Tell me about some of your jobs,” Hera requested.

 

Kanan chuckled, feeling encouraged by Hera’s desire to hold a conversation. “Well, you already know that I worked for Moonglow. Before that, I was a mechanic on Corellia. And before I was a mechanic, I was first mate on a that freighter I told you about. We shipped construction materials. And before that, I worked as a dish washer in a cantina on Ord Mantell.”

 

“A dish washer,” Hera murmured.

 

Surely, the humor of this was not lost on her, even if she was incredibly sick.

 

“I’m—“ she began before being interrupted by a big shiver, “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I don’t know what came over me.”

 

“This did,” Kanan told her. “The first stage of hyperspace sickness is severe irritability.”

 

Hera huffed out a little laugh. “I _was_ severely irritable, wasn’t I?”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, squeezing her arms a little. “I forgive you.”

 

“Thanks,” she said, relaxing her body more fully against him and leaning her head back.

 

Her lekku, which were uncovered with the exception of the cap that covered the base of her skull, were now just to the side of Kanan’s face. It occurred to him that the appendages might be quite cold too, so he moved his hands from her arms and began slowly running them up and down her lekku instead.

 

Hera tensed in his arms.

 

“Kanan, please stop,” she said, her soft voice sounding strangled.

 

He immediately removed his hands from her lekku. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

 

Hera turned her head slightly to make eye-contact with him. “…The opposite actually.”

 

“Wait, what do you— _oh_.” Kanan’s initial puzzlement melted away into awkward understanding. His cheeks burned in sudden embarassment. “I’m so sorry, Hera.”

 

“It’s okay, love,” she said. “You didn’t know.”

 

 _Love_. Hera had never called him ‘love’ before…

 

From the moment he first heard Hera, he had been captivated by her. Working along side her on Gorse had only solidified this captivation and then getting to know her once he had joined her crew increased his feelings of captivation but also added feelings of deep respect. Now, after six months, Kanan was certifiably head-over-heels for Hera.

 

But because Hera had never shown any true reciprocation of his feelings, he kept them to himself. He had been flirtatious with her at first, but when it was clear that she didn’t feel the same way about him, Kanan had ceased the flirting—with the exception of the occasional playful comment, of course.

 

Here she was now, though, leaning against him skin-to-skin, appearing at ease (with the exception of that short awkward moment), talking kindly to him, and calling “love.”

 

Kanan re-wrapped his hands around her middle, and they didn’t speak for a little while. Kanan thought Hera must have fallen asleep. He leaned his cheek against her shoulder once more and was relieved to feel that she was now clammy with sweat.

 

With this positive development, Kanan allowed his own body to relax as well and he began to drift off into a light sleep until he felt Hera grab his hands with her own and lace her fingers with his.

 

“Man, am I glad to have you around,” Hera said. “I don’t know what would have happened if I would have gotten this and you weren’t here.”

 

“I bet Chopper’s a pretty good cuddler,” Kanan joked.

 

Hera let out a quick laugh and said, “I think I prefer you.”

 

“Well, if you ever want to do this again in the future, when you’re feeling better, you know I’d be down for it.”

 

Kanan said it mostly as a joke, though there was obviously truth to it. He was surprised, then, when she squeezed his hands a little and softly said, “Maybe.”

 

A large smile spread across Kanan’s face that Hera couldn’t see, of course, because she was facing forward and not looking back at him. “I like the sound of that.”

 

Hera didn’t say anything else, and not long after, he could hear that her breathing had changed and she was, in fact, asleep this time. Once more, he leaned his face down to assess her temperature, but this time he pressed his lips—not his cheek—to her shoulder. He didn’t exactly kiss her, but he let his lips linger there, feeling her slightly warmer body.

 

Not long after, Kanan fell asleep too.

 

He awoke later to Hera gently calling his name.

 

“What is it?” he asked. “Are you feeling okay?”

 

“I still feel pretty lousy, but I’m better than I was before,” she told him. “Chopper just commed in and said we were entering atmo soon. You’ll need to get back to cockpit.”

 

“You’re right,” Kanan said, as he pulled away from Hera and climbed out the bed.

 

Hera laid back down, and Kanan made sure to cover her up with all the blankets. He retrieved his undershirt and tunic from where he discarded them on an empty chair.

 

“I’m glad you’re feeling a little better,” Kanan told her, walking back over to the bed for a quick second. He wiped some of the sweat from her brow and said, “You really had me worried there for a second.”

 

Hera smiled warmly at him, took his hand, and squeezed. “Thank you, Kanan. You’re a good man.”

 

“Of course, Hera. I’ve always got your back.”

 

“This time, literally,” she said, still smiling.

 

Kanan exited Hera’s cabin and made his way to the cockpit. As he did so, he heaved a massive sigh of relief. Hera was going to be okay. And things between them seemed okay as well—more than okay, even. Over the next few days, Kanan had a good feeling that this experience, though frightening, had been a significant turning point for them.

 

A couple weeks later, after Hera was out of the med-center and they were back up in space, Kanan was in the galley, cleaning the few dishes that had been left in the small sink. When he went to put the dishes in the cupboard that Hera had designated for them, he noticed that cupboard was empty.

 

Curious, he checked the cupboard he had previously kept the dishes in—the cupboard Hera told him they _didn’t_ belong in. When he opened it, he saw a large stack of dishes had been moved there. He grinned and shook his head good-naturedly at Hera’s presumed peace offering before putting the newly cleaned dishes in the cupboard with the others.

 

This was definitely a turning point, Kanan happily thought.

**Author's Note:**

> This all started with an idea I had of Kanan and Hera needing to cuddle after an argument and then Kanan trying to warm her lekku without realizing how sensitive they were. The circumstances changed a lot before I finally decided on the events that happened in this fic.
> 
> Also...hopefully I didn't botch the medical info in this too badly! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it :)


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